


i show up for you because you keep showing up in my dreams

by potterskam



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Happy, but they too stubborn to accept that, i repeat: MADARA AND HASHIRAMA ARE IN LOVE, madara and hashirama are in love, or happy? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterskam/pseuds/potterskam
Summary: Hashirama knew he had killed Uchiha Madara at the Valley of The End.Then why he keeps appearing to him?
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	i show up for you because you keep showing up in my dreams

**Author's Note:**

> ooooooookay folks, i'm back............ and this time with naruto.
> 
> during quarantine i started to watch the anime because of my sisters insistence and boy did i fell in love with this series!!! well, as you can see, i wrote some #hashimada thing for you, i hope you enjoy it - and i already apologize for mistakes that may occur cause i'm a brazilian girl who has lost track of her own life, doesn't practice her english in a loooong time and that's it i guess 
> 
> i really hope you like my work 
> 
> and just like my teacher used to say: kisses kisses at the place you most want

Hashirama never thought that in the end he’d have to kill him. He never planned this the way it turned out, he didn’t want to... to kill Madara. He wanted to do everything the right way, create Konoha to create peace.

Then _how_ and _when_ things got so complicated?

_“Izuna died, even though I swore I’d protect him with my life. In the end, he died and I survived. It was me that should have died that day, not him”_

Hashirama knew the pain that came when you kept seeing your little brothers die in front of you, when you couldn't save them. But he still had Tobirama, while Madara had no one else. He guessed he couldn’t understant Madara’s feelings in it’s entirety since he hadn’t been the one who saw his brother die by the hands of his best friend’s brother.

But he still had Hashirama. If he only knew...

...only knew that Hashirama would do anything beyond possible to bring hapiness again into Madara’s life.

Right now, though, he realized that his love wasn’t enough, not when the only person Madara swore to protect had died right in front of him. By Hashirama’s brother hands. He couldn’t find in him a way to hate Madara, only the quite opposite. He understood why he continued getting more and more and more angry at the whole world.

But their dream, that once was so strong and certain, Hashirama couldn’t let Madara ruin. Because it was necessary to the shinobi world; because it was the only thing left of the Madara Hashirama loved that survived.

How could he let their dream end like this?

But he couldn’t accept that this was the only way things would get better. He couldn’t accept that Madara was dead. By his hands, his sword. And now, there was nothing more besides the silence. The most deafening sound he had ever heard.

How come silence was _so_ loud?

He just wanted to get back to moments before this, just seconds; he wanted to hear the breathing scaping Madara’s mouth once more; to see the blink of his eyes one more time; to feel the heat of his skin; he wanted more time, more time to tell him how much he meant in Hashirama’s life; time to change this, to change their destinies. But who he was trying to fool? Their destinies was far distance from them to change, far separated, far difficult to try maneuver. Even when they where just kids, everything was just a fantasie that, deep down, they both knew it wouldn’t come true, not with the two of them together.

Hashirama just didn’t want to be the one who survived. Didn’t want to be the one who killed his best friend. Didn’t want to live with the thought of a life without Madara by his side.

Then how would he carry on? How he was gonna get back to the village, the Hidden Leaf Village, his village, without Madara with him?

Everything was too consuming, nothing but _Madara, Madara, Madara_ echoed in his head. He then felt the cold water hit the tip of his fingers and realized it was raining; hard. As if the heaven was crying with Hashirama. When even the rain was too much to endure and felt the cold drops hitting his face, mixed with the heat of his own tears and the cold of Madara’s body long gone, he let go of him with one last look and got back to _their_ village.

***

The day after Uchiha Madara’s death everyone was murmuring.

Hashirama didn’t know exactly what they had been talking, and if he was been honest with himself, he didn’t want to know either. He was to lost in his own thoughts to do anything other than look through the windows in the Hogake office and be lost, lost, lost, lost, lost...

The scene kept repeating in his head. Hashirama behind Madara, while his friend thought he would kill him, and then...

...and then the sword stuck itself into Madara’s heart. Just like that, and he was dead. Gone. Forever.

He tried to forget about this image, but it wouldn’t go away, so he choose to remember the better days, the ones where they both seemed happy. At least, they seemed. Was Madara happy, at least when they were together? He hoped the awnser would be _yes, yes I was happy, Hashirama, I was beyond happy with you in my life, but it just wasn’t... enough. I wish it was._

“It’s growing.” Hashirama couldn’t help but smile. When he saw that Madara was looking at him waiting for more, like he hadn’t understand, he continued with the same bright smile in his face. “The village, I mean”

“Well, with the two of us in command, it’s hard not to” He gave Hashirama a side smile and a comically eyebrow raise that made both of them laugh; hard.

“We should celebrate”

“What’s your proposal, then?”

“I say we forget who we are and what our duties are just for today and get wasted!” Well, it was, indeed, a good idea. Not so much later they were both tipsy – to say the least – and very cheerful for everything and anything. Hashirama’s eyes were glowing in the dark light, a reflex of the moon above them, and he swore Madara’s were the same way, shining. It had pure joy in that moment, and now Hashirama started to wander if it was all a lie. Except it couldn’t be, because the way Madara’s voice was so so so soft that night wasn’t just pretending. And the way they just got closer, and closer and whispered secrets, just the two of them.

 _You don’t even know how much you mean to me_ and _If it is how much you mean to me I have an idea_ and everything they had the courage to say was spilled that night, and it felt too perfect to be true. But it was, and Hashirama thought he was dead and it had arrived in heaven. After all, Madara was his gift from the divine.

And it _was_ real.

But the next morning, they pretended it never happened, because how could they?

“You, as the next Hogake, must have a wife. And I have the perfect woman for you.” Tobirama’s words felt like a kunai been stuck in his heart. It was just a dream, after all, a dream of what they could have had.

Today, while Hashirama was lost in his own thoughts and memories, he knew it would never be real. Not then, not now. Because Madara was dead.

And it was Hashirama’s hands that killed him.

The first week that followed the event was calm, almost like the flow of the river they once had been. It felt like a lifetime ago, the two young and innocent boys fooling around, pretending they didn’t know who they were. It sure felt like a dream, and Hashirama laughed weakly remembering what they once were.

They could be _so_ strong together.

Hashirama suppressed a sigh and got out of the Hogake office, pretending he wasn’t hearing his brother’s protests.

“What are you doing, Hashirama? You have to be here, we have importante things to discuss”

“Later, please.” Before he left the office he heard the loud sigh – the same he himself was repressing – coming from Tobirama. He loved his brother so much, but he couldn’t stay there, by his side, not for now. He nedded some privacy, some calmness, some time away from his life as Hogake, as Mito’s husband, as Tobirama’s brother.

Once he got outside, the breeze hit his face and it felt almost like a touch. He closed his eyes and imagined the life he coul have had. In his head they were happy and side by side, supporting each other like they supposed to, echoing their kid’s desires to create piece. Hashirama looked around and saw happy faces, easy smiles and loose laughs echoing what once they wanted; at least someone was enjoying things like they were now, and Hashirama wished he was happy, but how could he? Life without Madara was everything but happy.

_What one desperate soul can do to just... just one more time, just see his face again?_

The place where his heart was supposed to be, beating and forwarding blood for the rest of his body was hollow, he didn’t remember how it was, not in this moment, not now that Madara didn’t exist anymore.

_Madara, if you just knew... if you knew you’d shatter me into pieces with you that day, would you act the same?_

His heart was long gone but he wanted it back, to feel again, to be happy by Tobirama’s side again. Right in this moment, though, he just felt really heavy, holding the whole world in his hands, too much for one to bear.

For how long it would last?

He just wanted to see Madara again. One last time.

***

The first month had passed very quickly and life to Hashirama started to feel normal again. The deep sorrow was still there, too vivid not to be felt; also the guilt, that never left his side, not one second. But his role as the Hogake was very consuming and as the days flew by, he only had time to think about Madara late at night, when he was in his bed, trying to sleep.

The ceiling stared at him right back, his mind awaken enough for him not to think about what he was doing. What was he doing?

He was going insane. Except he couldn’t, because he was the Hogake, had to protect the village, his dream – _their_ dream. Also, he was Tobirama’s big brother and once had made a promise to himself about protecting him from the consuming pain the world had to offer.

He decided to got out of bed about three hours after he got there in the first place, accepting he wouldn’t be sleeping much that night and decided that he would go where everything had started.

Getting there was easy, but staring at the river and the stones that once had so much meaning wasn’t, and because of that he was very pleased with his him from the past for bringing some sake. It turned out not much time was necessary for him to be a little tipsy; he didn’t know if it was from the liquid or the memories or the sorrow that was not going anywhere, but some time in the obscure night he started to sob and the weight he felt was so so _so_ _so_ heavy, it was honestly overwhelming; it almost felt like physical pain, the agony that kept rising and rising and never got to an end. Some time into the time that seemed not to pass he started to feel dizzy, the air wasn’t enough, his throat clenched until he choked in his on saliva.

Was this misery?

He looked his reflex in the water only to see tears that never stoped. And everything was starting to fade away when he heard some noise across the river; instantly he regained some composure and went alert, darting his gaze to the trees that covered the riverbank.

Nothing. It must’ve been some animal or just the wind, but just for sure he looked around one more time.

It was when he saw him.

Hashirama startled and got up very fast, wich was not a good idea, because now everything was spinning and what was Uchiha Madara doing here?

Uchiha Madara was dead. He had killed him.

“Madara... what-” Hashirama stumbled over words, blinked his eyes one more time. It _was_ him, but how? “Are you real, Madara?”

Those eyes, those beautiful eyes. God, Hashirama missed them so much, seeing them again once more felt like drinking water after days at the desert. And they were shining, and looking straight into Hashirama’s. He then dared to take a step closer, but they still were very far apart.

And at the thought of Hashirama being close to him Madara vanished, just as quickly as he had appeared.

It wasn’t real. It was just an hallucinacion. He was drunk, after all; and mourning.

Somehow he felt lighter, like he had someone to carry the weight of the world with him. He laid down by the river, watching as the water peacefully passed by and when he realized he was sleeping.

“Hashirama” The voice was so low he almost couldn’t hear it, but he did because the person was right by his side, laying with him beneath the stars that fill in the sky.

“Madara” He responded just as low, and they were suddenly _so_ close. He tempted to carress the other man’s face, but guarded his desires to himself. His skin was soft and _so_ beautiful, just like the shy smile that kept forming on the lips of the Uchiha. “I want to touch it” He seemed surprised with his own boldness, but then grinned at the other man’s reaction: he was – thank you **very** much – blushing, and _god_ it was beautiful. Hashirama could not get tired of this.

“You can” Madara soft whisper vanished into the air as soon as Hashirama brought his hand to touch red lips, that parted just a bit.

“Then I will”

“Hashirama” The tone wasn’t low anymore, it was almost concerned. He heard the second time, and by the third he was awake and felt hands shaking him.

“Tobirama” He accepted the hand that was offered to help him up.

“What are you doing?”

“I was... trying to sleep”

“You... idiot!” Tobirama crossed his arms and looked furious. Well, Hashirama sure would miss his worried side, it was much more gentle. “We were very concerned about you. Don’t you ever do this again.” Hashirama scratched his neck with clear embarrassment, feeling like the little brother of the situation.

The only thing left to say was “I won’t”

***

The second time it happened Hashirama wasn’t even thinking about Madara.

He was just walking around the village, watching contently people living their lives, enjoying their days with happiness and safety. Peace sure was something he thought was worthy fighting for, and he would never regret his dream becoming reality. It sooth him, and for some moment he truly believed he could be happy again, someday.

Shinobi or non-shinobi passed whishing him a _good day, hokage-sama_ with bright smiles on their faces, they were – apparently – truly happy and that made Hashirama breathe relived.

At least this went the right way.

He decided, then, he’d stop torturing himself – first, by trying to smile more, and second buying some food for him and Tobirama to share and have some time together not doing anything hokage-related. He was tired and his little brother should get a rest too. When he was about to head home with the food he just had bought, he looked around the strees of Konoha one more time, breathing deeply, allowing him to relax all his muscles.

But then... he saw him, again.

He was staring at him too, standing in a distance, not too close for Hashirama to touch, not too far to Hashirama not to see. He blinked and he was still there, looking him from head to toe, analyzing him the way only Madara could, like he wanted to read his entire soul with just one look; like Hashirama was the only one time worthy spending. He gave the same look back, waiting for him to desappear, or worse... try to kill him.

But it wasn’t real, Uchiha Madara was dead. Hashirama was there, was the one who killed his best friend.

So why was he here?

Hashirama began to walk in his direction, kindly avoiding everyone who got in his way. He just needed to get there and talk to him, one more time.

Just one more time and he could go away. But by the time he really got there, there were no Uchiha Madara in the sight; Hashirama was certanly going crazy, he swore he was here, he could feel him, feel his own body boil with the look Madara had in his face. It couldn’t be just a dream, it was too real.

Hashirama closed his eyes and sighed, missing him more than ever.

_Uchiha Madara, you’re dead and I’m alive. This is punishment enough._

  
“Tobirama, come with me, please” Hashirama entered the room with a fake smile that he hoped it’d seem true. Tobirama looked suspiscious but followed him until they were at the river Hashirama knew so well.

“What exactly are we doing him, Hashirama?”

“Eating, you look like you skipped lunch.” And with and amused face, he added “Besides, I’m your big brother so you _have_ to listen to what I say to you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Tobirama said “You’re being ridiculous... and weird. We’ve never had lunch together like this, certainly not in _this_ place.” He looked around seeming annoyed and crossed his arms.

“Everything has it’s first times” He winked playfully, and then his hole face darkened as he shrugged “And I need this, Tobi.” Tobirama immediately loosed his arms and went sit beside Hashirama, both of them looking ahead, just sitting there.

“Do you miss him?”

“At the beginning it was worse. But yes, I still miss him with my hole being.”

“Do you regret what you did?” Hashirama took a deep breath but didn’t respond, because Tobirama didn’t need the confirmation to what he already knew.

_Yes, I regret it. And if I could go back in time, I’d do everything to not kill him... because I didn’t know I needed him so bad until he was long gone._

“Think about what you have here, with you, alive. Konoha, me, Mito and your soon-to-be-son. Aren’t we enough to make you happy?”

“Of course you are.” _I just miss him. I miss his laugh, his complaints, his provocations, his touch. I miss everything._

“I’m-- _we_ are here for you. I hope you can see that too.” Tobirama put a hand in his shoulders and just kept it there for a while. “And Uchiha Madara will live for as long as Konoha prospects... and as long as you live, too.”

He knew this because he loved him, and loved ones would always survive in their hearts. He sure would keep Madara in his heart until his last breath.

“Thank you.”

***

It was a big day, the day his son would be born; he couldn’t be happier, especially because he knew his and Mito’s son would grow in a world free of wars and conflicts that could kill or make him suffer.

“My son, Tobirama” He tried, but couldn’t stop hugging his brother, who continued with his hands crossed firmly at his chest. But the said uncle was happy too, Hashirama could tell; only it was another way of showing it. “My son!”

While Mito was in their bedroom, preparing herself for deliver a baby – witch Hashirama thought was a very difficult task, yet having to worry about Kyuubi – Hashirama and his brother were stanting at the corridor, the soon-to-be-father walking around, too caught up in his anxiety to be still.

“Be still, Hashirama.” Despite the words sounding a little harsh, the tone Tobirama used was fond, caring.

“I can’t! I’m so excited, Tobi.”

The hours passed and Hashirama couldn’t believe when his brother said that he was very wrong, because they had been here for only thirty minutes. How could he be so chill about this, his son was about to be delivered and and and, _yes Hashirama was very anxious about meeting his own son._

He was already dreaming about showing Konoha around for his son, and teaching him his jutsus, or just walking around with him, or hug him, or kiss him, or just stare at him for so long he’d be lost at the babyland. When he finally heard the crying in the room he jumped on the door and ran up to the baby, and he was instantly in love.

It was like nothing. Nothing compared to the love he felt right at that moment. And he was _so_ happy he could burst.

“Look at him, Tobi. He has my eyes!”

“Yes, he does have your eyes” Hashirama just hugged his brother.

Later that night Hashirama went to the river, just to feel the wind in his face and look at the stars. Before he could go there he just looked at the village from the mountain, thinking about how much time had passed. He had seen and felt so much sorrow and pain – physically and mentally – had lost so many important people to him, had killed so many innocent individuals during the times where all the clans were doing was fighting each other. Had lost his best friend not so long ago by his own hands, craved a sword that would be stuck not only in Madara’s but his body too. He let out a tear and then smiled, he had to tell Madara about this.

“He’s beautiful, Madara. The most precious boy, and I already love him so much.” He was sit by the river, looking ahead and sighing because _yes, of course he would remember him, how could he not?_ “I wished you were here, with me, holding my hand.” He took a stone and threw it in the river, like they would do so many years ago. He couldn’t be more surprised, though, when he saw other stone been thrown in his direction, with a precision that just one person could muster.

And for his more surprised face, the stone came with a note.

_I’m happy for you._

Hashirama got up with a speed he didn’t know he had and started run into the forest, and he ran, and ran, and ran...

“Madara!”

He called out his name once, twice but got nothing, it was like he never was there. Except Hashirama knew, deep into his bones, that Uchiha Madara was alive and was there just a couple of seconds ago.

“Why are you doing this?”

He stopped in the middle of the forest, just trees and trees and more trees. His face almost had a life of his own because it was going right and left right and left, looking, looking, longing for just one person. His heart was beating fast, his hands were sweating and his breathing was erratic; his head was spinning and everything he could think of was _Madara, Madara, Madara._

“Madara, where are you?”

He heard behind him the rustle of leaves and snapped his head in that direction; nothing, there was nothing there. He ran again just to find himself in front of another tree, and there were no one there. His heart was still beating so fast and he was furious, anger growing at his skin; he turned his body around himself and scanned through the forest, looking with predatory eyes every little space. His throat started to close and his eyes were burning, an increasingly ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away, only got stronger and stronger.

When he realized he was sitting in the middle of the forest, his knees brought to his face, his body all shrunk and _god, he was tired._

“Why are you doing this to me, Madara?” He started sobbing, the ache in his chest gotting worse and he could not breathe anymore. He sank into the floor and felt like he was underwater, all the noises suddenly felt far away, he did not felt his body and certanly didn’t felt the ground nor the roots. He was losing himself for the first time in years, and it felt awful just like the first time. He couldn’t see anymore, eyes too full of tears to see something, ears too noisy to hear nothing other than his own lostness.

While he though about his son, his lovely son with his brown eyes, he swore he felt someone grab him from the floor, but he was to consumed by everything to notice. If anyone wanted to kill him, this was the perfect time.

_Madara, is that how you felt when I killed you? Lost?_

When he woke up, he was in his own bed, covered by blankets. The warmth was very welcoming because the soreness of his body was surely making him feel awful.

“Hashirama, you own me explanations.” Tobirama was – like always, arms crossed over his imposing chest – and the look in his eyes was scary, even for Hashirama. “I’m tired of picking you up laid down by the river.”

“I know it’ll sound crazy, but please, please... you have to believe me.”

“Spill it.”

“Uchiha Madara is alive.”

He heard nothing, because Tobirama was in silence for some time now, and it was driving Hashirama crazy. Did he believe in him?

“I don’t believe you. I think this is only some way of your brain to don’t feel guilty about what happened, _years ago_.”

“It’s not that, Tobi. I saw him, there were this stone-”

“Hashi, I think you need some time resting. Your son just born and you were a little out of your mind yesterday. Just... get some sleep.”

Hashirama could argue with his little – stubborn – brother, but he was so tired that he didn’t find in himself to form the words and spill them out.

He didn’t know how, but Madara was alive.

***

The next times it happens, it all happens really fast and Hashirama almost thinks that he’s going crazy, but he couldn’t because it is too real to be just his imagination. Everytime he sees Madara he remembers what they were and what they could have been, if destiny were by their sides.

But it never have been.

“I have something I need to tell you.” Hashirama was wiggling his fingers anxiously, looking everywhere but Madara.

“You know you can tell me anything.” They looked into each other eyes at the same time with the same intensity. There was love somewhere in the middle of them, begging to be released; their hands touched, the tiniest of touches. Hashirama took a deep breath, turned his face to the village and knew he had to do this, it was for the benefit of his dream, _their dream_ ; it would break his heart, but he hoped Madara would be fine – although deep down, he knew he’d break into as many pieces as he already was.

“I’m gonna get married.” It all got out real quick, and Hashirama was holding his breath, too scared to look into Madara‘s eyes. Suddenly, there were no more touching hands and proximity; Madara was fading away from him just as quickly as he had told him the news. And the only thing left behind was a deep, painful cold.

And there was also void.

His life without Madara was void.

“Do you-” He felt Madara shift in his sit, and then he was up, looking straight beyond de village. His eyes were no more shining, they were unfocused, lost maybe...

Madara’s empty but firm voice cut him off “I certainly think you’ll be very happy. You deserve it.” He looked at Hashirama one last time, a smile on his face; Hashirama returned the smile. They looked happy, except their eyes weren’t smiling with them. There were deep sadness and loneliness there.

Hashirama whished he did everything different, but he didn’t know how, back then. And even if he had a chance now, he would continue to not know how to solve things. Reality didn’t seem to be by their sides.

So when he kept seeing his eyes, those black eyes that once held so much love and hope, he couldn’t help himself but wish to live in a different world, where they could be happy, side by side.

_Madara, do you think there is others Hashiramas and Madaras that are happy somewhere else? I wish I could know them._

Those questions didn’t leave his brain, he couldn’t work, he couldn’t walk by the streets of Konoha, he couldn’t talk to his brother... no one understood him, or no one wanted to; the only time he forgot about everything was when he was with his son.

The years flew by, carrying Madara with them until his presence was long gone, just a memory. Hashirama was almost totally back, happy with his life and his family. His son was older now and he was getting more and more tired. He already had started having serious conversations with Tobirama about him being the next one to be Hokage. The Senju clan had to be in charg, and Hashirama believed in his brother with his eyes closed.

In his deepest thoughts, Madara sometimes showed up. Or maybe it was real, and Madara was there, near him, almost too close to touch; and when that happened, he went to his closet and picked the stones and the leaves that Uchiha Madara had left him over the years. It was the proofs he needed to know he wasn’t crazy, that his best friend was still alive, still out there, looking for him somehow. And that thought itself made his heart twist in some weird way, gave him necessary strength to continue his life.

But sometimes, when he looked out of the window of the Hokage office, the rain never stopping, he doubted himself. He had killed his best friend, it was on an rainy day, just like this one; he had seen his corpse laid down, cold, lifeless, his eyes no more filled with love and devotion towards Hashirama; his sword was stuck firmly in the man’s heart, the heavens crying over his death. Uchiha Madara was dead, there were no way he could be alive, and if he had been alive he would come talk to Hashirama, wouldn’t he?

_If you’re really alive, Madara, why aren’t here with me?_

The day Hashirama breathed one last time he was thinking about Madara, about finally meeting him after all these years. Uchiha Madara was Senju Hashirama’s last thought.

***

It was why he wasn’t surprised when he was faced with an Edo Tensei Madara. In the middle of a war. That Madara was planning.

They were face to face now, just the two of them. War noises, people screaming, bombs being released, more people screaming, crying, begging for the heavens for this to stop, stop, stop please. Hashirama was also one that was pleading stop stop stop stop, but Madara wasn’t going anywhere, he was stanting in front of him, waiting and waiting and waiting. He had already stopped, and was waiting for Hashirama.

“I wasn’t crazy back then, was I?” Hashirama looked fine, but deep down he felt defeated. He was so tired, he just wanted this to be over and go away again, this time forever.

“No, I was there the whole time, watching you.” Madara looked defeated as well, like the war didn’t have much importance anymore. He was only looking at Hashirama, Hashirama, Hashirama, Hashirama, _please forgive me._

“Why?” When he noticed Madara didn’t understand what actions he was really questioning, he laughed weakly, remembering again. They could have worked things out. “Why you kept disappearing from my life?”

Madara laughed, and there were some bitterness about that sound. “I really wanted to not keep disappearing, I wish you would be enough. But I had something more importante to do, as you can see.”

“I see, Madara.” Hashirama looked around and felt all the despair in the air, all the deaths, all the crying and it was like he was back in time and this was his battlefield, where he kept seeing his brothers dying, one after another. _How could he forgive the man he loved?_

“I’m about to create the perfect world, Hashirama. I will have Izuno and my other brothers there, and you, and we’ll be _happy._ Side by side. You’ll also have all your brothers back too, the ones that were taken from you by the sorrow of war. The peace we wanted so bad is finally ready.” Hashirama could feel the despair in his voice, like he couldn’t get through all of this without Hashirama by his side. Except he wouldn’t have Hashirama by his side.

“I don’t want this, Madara. I wanted you, the _real you_. I couldn’t have him back then and I accepted my life the way it was. Without you holding my hand. I don’t want to live a lie.”

“It won’t be a lie, Hashirama. You’ll see, it’ll be the life we deserved.” Hashirama realised Madara wouldn’t change his mind, he was well too deep into this plan. He already had told him, before he left Konoha, but Hashirama couldn’t quite understant that time. If he only knew...

He closed his eyes and—everything got blurry, when he oppened his eyes he wasn’t in the battlefield, he was in his bedroom.

“Hashirama” It felt peaceful, warming, welcoming. The breeze that entered the room was quiet, just like the whisper coming from Madara’s mouth. It was summer, his favorite season.

“Madara” Hashirama smiled and felt free to ran his fingers through the other man’s hair. It was so soft, just like him. He felt an instant urge to hug him, so he did. He hug him tight, just to prove a point. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t letting Madara go anywhere either. “You’re not going anywhere. Just stay here with me.”

“I have no place to be other than here.”

“Good.” They were entangled, the heat of their bodies warming each other up. It was so perfect, it almost felt wrong. But here he was, with Madara in his arms, so close to his dream. He let go of the dark haired man and looked into his dark eyes; where once there were tears, and incertanty, and anger, it now had love and love and love and devotion. To him.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me, Uchiha Madara.”

“If it is how much you mean _to me_ , I’d say I have an idea.”

“It is so much more.”

“Well, I love you this much.” He closed their already little distance with an hurry attempt to hug him once more, but Hashirama caught his chin and kissed him like he meant it; god, he loved him so much.

They were now at the top moutain that surrounded Konoha, their village.

Hashirama looked at his side and grinned when he saw Madara with the Hokage robes.

“Well, you do look beatiful in this sunlight.” He couldn’t help though, and started laughing outloud, hands in his belly. Madara looked at him furious.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Your face was very cute, the look of devotion in your eyes towards Konoha. I’ve never seen you look at the village this way.” Madara was now blushing and was looking back at Hashirama with an expression even more furious than before, just to hide his embarrassament. _He only gets cuter_ , Hashirama though.

“It is my village too, after all. Stop teasing me.” He straightened his Hokage hat in his head and looked the opposite direction of Hashirama, who was still laughing. He got closer to Madara, who didn’t walk away from him, only got closer. Their hands met between the distance and they intertwined them.

Hashirama looked back at their village. He was finally happy.

The scene changed and now Hashirama was at his house – his and Madara’s house – and there seemed to be some kind of meeting there. He and Madara were at their bedroom, apparently **_discussing_** something that seemed really importante at that time.

“We have to go, Hashirama.” Madara was trying to be serious but he couldn’t help the giggles that escaped his mouth everytime Hashirama kissed his neck just the right way in the right place.

“Do we really need to go?” Hashirama was pressing him against the wall, smiling fondly in the crack of Madara’s neck, just hoping this moment would last forever.

“You’ll like the surprise. Come, please.” Madara forced him to look into his eyes, those beautiful eyes, and how, honestly, could Hashirama say no to those eyes? He loved them so much. Madara smiled while broking off of his husband’s grip; offered him his hand, and they both went to the living room.

And there was.

All of Hashirama’s brothers, together, laughing, getting old. He couldn’t help the tears that started to scape his eyes, he was beyond happy. His little brothers, the ones he loved and missed so much was all there, one hand away of distance.

“Oh, look who’s crying. I knew you missed us!” Itama got closer and hugged him, and it was when Hashirama broke. He missed them so much.

“I love you all so much.” They all smiled at each other and then there was a big, messy brother hug.

Later that night, Madara was laid down beside him, a genuine smile on his face.

“I told you you’d like the surprise.” Hashirama brought him close to his bare chest and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you.”

Being back into reality was hard, and devastating. He wished he could stay more in the genjutsu Madara put him in, because it was truly his deepest desires. But he couldn’t, because it wasn’t real, it was all pretend. And how could he live a life pretending? Pretending to love Madara and his brothers, pretending he never had his son, pretending that his life wasn’t the way it were, when he really lived.

He had imagined his life by Madara’s side so many times, but in none of them it had felt so good. But it was a lie, and Hashirama knew he wouldn’t be happy for much long in a lie; he would discover and then it would all be sadness and anger and empty glances.

And from the moment he awoke in this body that wasn't his, he knew what he had to do. He loved Madara and that feeling wouldn't end, but his best friend for life had to end along with his plan.

So when he stuck the second sword in Madara’s chest from behind, he knew this time it was the right thing to do. And when his body fell onto his lap with a low sound of something being broken, he knew it would be the last time they would see each other. Because of that or because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins, he closed the distance between then and pressed a gentle kiss in his lips.

“I love you, Uchiha Madara.”

And in one last breath, Madara also said his own “I love you."


End file.
